She'd known she'd never find a man with a face that pleased her as much as Rohan's. And no one had that lithe, agile body, that almost feline grace.
But she'd hoped she'd find comparable hands.
There weren't any. The men of the ton had hands that were pale, well kept. But either their fingers were too short or their palms too squat, their fingers stubby.
She sighed. It was impossible, and she knew it.
The more time passed, the easier things would be, she promised herself. For the first week she did nothing but weep, something that alarmed poor Lina, who'd seldom seen her stalwart best friend shed a tear, much less become a total watering pot. It hadn't taken Meggie long to ferret out the truth of how she'd spent the time in Sussex— Charlotte was unused to lying, unused to secrets and feeling too miserable to resist Meggie's efforts, and from then on Lina knew everything. It had taken all Charlotte's limited energy and threats to keep Lina from her declared revenge, with only common sense finally tempering Lina's desire to defend Charlotte. "If you make a fuss then everyone will know. " Charlotte had said. "It was my choice—I wasn't forced. And the last thing I want to do is end up married to a libertine. I think he was an excellent choice to deflower me, once I decided that was an interesting idea, but anything more than that would be disastrous. "
Lina had been distracted. "Just how excellent was he?"
"I'm not about to tell you. Besides, I have nothing to compare him with," Charlotte had said primly, trying not to gag on the herbal tisane Lina insisted upon her drinking.
"But you enjoyed it? He made it pleasurable? You achieved. . . rapture?”
Charlotte had felt her face flush. "Yes. "
"Damn," said Lina.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Well, I'm certainly not going anywhere near him now. I consider him your property, and I would never trespass. "
"He's hardly my property. Have at him," she'd said with an airy wave of her hand, almost managing to convince herself she meant it. "After all, you wanted him first. "
"Now, I know that isn't true. You've been pining for him these last three years, God knows why. Admittedly he's gorgeous, but you're hardly the type to be overset by simple beauty. Why?"
Because he has sad eyes, she could have said. Because he tries so very hard to be bad. to be mean.
to be cruel, and all you have to do is look past the studied ennui to see a hurt little boy trying to emerge. And, yes, because he's bloody gorgeous.
But she said none of this. To say it out loud would burn it into her heart.
"I have no idea. But I'm done with him. Feel free to try your luck. "
"No," Lina had said firmly. "Drink your tea. "
Which she'd done, quite dutifully. And been rewarded, a week ago, with a few betraying drops of blood signaling the onset of her menses. Nothing had happened since then, but it was enough to ensure nothing had come of the two illicit days with him. After all, he'd. . . he'd pulled out of her, hadn't he? To ensure that nothing untoward had happened.
She'd tried to explain that to Lina but gotten hopelessly tongue-tied. "Never mind, darling," Lina had said. “I know what you mean, and I thank God he had at least that much sense. You'll still drink the tea. Accidents can happen, and nothing is ever foolproof. "
And so it went. The doctor had declared her right as rain from the aftermath of her fall, and Charlotte refused to let him examine her more intimately. Nothing had happened to her that hadn't happened to most women in the world—it was hardly worthy of medical interest.
In the end it had been an all-around disastrous idea on her part, dressing up to play with the Mad Monks. She knew why she did it. Not for scientific inquiry.
it had been for Rohan—she'd been drawn to him in all his self-destructive glory. Seeing him in flagrante delicto was supposed to cure her, wasn't it?
Instead she was even more tethered. If she'd stayed a virgin she would never have known what she was missing, and this was a rare case where ignorance was bliss. Not as much bliss as carnal knowledge. . . but a different sort of bliss. A nice, solid, serene sort of bliss that was much lacking in Charlotte's life for the last few weeks.
The one thing that both Meggie and Lina didn't know was that she hadn't just fallen down that embankment, she'd been pushed. By one of the Mad Monks.
And she had the unbearable suspicion that it might have been Adrian himself.
Lina swept into the solarium, her full skirts dancing on their hoops. "Darling, you're not wearing that hideous old dress, are you? This is your first night out since Sussex. Surely you can look a little more lively. ”
Charlotte set down her tea. "I was thinking we might wait another few days. I'm not sure that my ankle is completely healed, and I don't seem to have regained my usual energy. We can start with a walk in the park, perhaps tomorrow, instead of a ridotto at Ranelagh Gardens. "
"A walk?" Lina demanded, horrified. "Sweetings, I don't walk. Besides, Ranelagh will be just the thing.